Boys will be Boys
by mysterynotsolved
Summary: Maria Parker was seen as a being not meant to be out free. Maybe they were right. However, as soon as she meets the Joker, she is lost to the Darkness completely, never hesitating. Abused, heartbroken beyond repair, she is one that will never be classed sane by the people of Gotham. But who needs sanity, when she has her Joker? A story of alove that was born from chaos, and blood.
1. Chapter 1

**I won nothing, except OC characters and plot. The joker is based on Heath Ledgers version. Mistakes and critism will be welcomed but I'd of course prefer positive ones. I will try to update as soon as I can.**

**Chapter 1: Meeting the Joker**

A woman walked, though it was more of a skip, down the corridors of Arkham asylum.

Dr Maria Parker wore a dirty white coat that was given to all doctors that worked there, though everyone else's was clean. Many argued, amongst themselves but quite loudly, that she belonged in one of the loony rooms rather outside of them. Her icy blue eyes were startling, the lightest blue to be seen in eye colour. Her white complexion, bordering sickly, was flawless, not an imperfection in sight. She wore no make up either, which was unusual for woman in the asylum. Sickeningly, the employer and a taste for the more loose women and he hired many. But Maria was not one of them, which made her unappreciated amongst many fellow workers. The deep burgundy hair that cascaded down in ringlets was a thing of beauty. Yet it was that unnerving, scary grin that was permanently on her face that stopped any from fully appreciating her form.

Maria Parker was an anomaly, a mystery that no one wanted to solve.

Maria would arrive everyday at the asylum, exactly five minutes late. There had never been words exchanged between Dr Parker and the other workers that resided in the unkept Asylum since her interview to be accepted into the staff, though it was arguable that she was accepted just because of the shortness in number of said staff.

Maria only spoke to the patients, and that was only when it was absolutely necessary, glaring at any guards that even thought of listening to her voice, preferring to listen and watch. So no one even knew what her voice sounded like.

Gotham had many convicted criminals sent to the asylum; it was a get out clause of any crime. Plead for insanity. Murderers, arsonists, Rapist and gang members alike lived in the padded white rooms quite comfortably. This was because Gotham was corrupt. Rules had no meaning there. It was a waste of time by the blue clothed pigs to try and change what is already there. Gotham was made of crime. The heart and soul were black and not many people knew that better than Maria.

It was something about her air that just screamed raw instability. She would sit on her own at breaks between shifts and giggle to herself. Occasionally she would even eat with the other patients, though still sitting at her own table. She was held dear by most patients, worming her way into the insane minds and supposed hearts.

Today was different for Arkham Asylum, for it had a guest that was feared by everything.

The Joker.

All except one felt the panic and trepidation for having the ruthless, crazy killer in their buildings. The patients were being unusually frantic, drugs not able to calm the growing panic. Quite a few were in their state due to the Prince of Clowns. Whispers of carved smiles and blackened, wild eyes were spoken in sessions, no matter the counsellors' attempts of stopping this.

Though, Maria was a different story, as always. She listened avidly to all the talk of _the Joker_. All the patients would whisper with the occasional twitch of what they had heard of the clown. The cards, the green hair and that religiously held knife that painted for the man, though quite a few argued that the Joker was not a man. Nothing but evil personified.

Maria watched from the edge of the scene as the mad man was led into the building, shackled and blindfolded as he walked. Paint was still smeared on his face, though missing in some places. Later, Maria found out that people were too scared to come too close to his face, as he went for the last person with his teeth alone, ripping at the jugular. The greasy hair that was still clinging to the famous green colour hung limply. The tightly fitted brace to stop any movement held the lean body.

And there, on either side of his mouth, lay the scars of a lengthened smile. They were obviously messily done, healing done no better, but to Maria, they were a thing of beauty. So individual. So truthful and captivating. The Joker was truly handsome in Maria's ice eyes.

The manic laughter that escaped the mangled, cracked lips of said scarred man was continuous, with the occasional break to try to calm his breathing. It was endearing to see. Heart-warming.

_A laughing angel_ Maria thought to herself.

She wished to see the eyes to the man, have a glimpse of the famous crazed eyes that were spoken of often. Maria loved eyes. It was perfect windows to the soul.

All too soon, the joker was led out of sight, his laughter now only a fading echo.

Determined, Maria moved to the desk that was situated behind a thick glass window. The woman sat behind it was near the same age as Maria, in her early twenties. However, she contrasted greatly with Maria. The woman and her breast popping out of the skin tight shirt as if they were trying to escape, which was catching the eyes of many males, and a few females, as they walked past. And she knew it, flaunting it with such vulgarity. _No class, pathetic_.

The bleached blonde lay hardened with hairspray, surrounding her makeup caked face, similar to the Jokers face painted one.

_She has nothing on my Joker_.

Maria stopped short. _Her Joker?_ It took a minute for it to solidify in her mind. The voice was true. _Hers_.

Unaware of the possessive epiphany, the painted whore turned to Maria and flashed a reluctantly given fake smile.

'Oh, Miss... Whatever, what can I do for you?' Normally, she would come up with an insult, however, just behind her sat the manager of the Asylum, unaware of the glares that were being exchanged between the two female workers.

Instead of speaking, Maria handed in a sheet. A request. To treat her Joker. She was giddy at just the thought, which showed at her ever growing grin.

Looking at the sheet, the girl snorted and whispers to herself 'Figures. Freaks stay together right?'. That wiped the grin from Maria's face. She insulted hers. _How dare she_? The image of the blood spurting from a beautiful thin line on her slim neck formed in her mind. It would not take much. One precise slice and then it would be bye bye bitch. That placed the smile back on her face.

Blowing up her gum in her face, sadly not even her scratch on her pathetic stick neck, the girl looked at Maria and spoke with her usual monotone.

'Well, you're in luck doctor, as you have already been assigned to him. No other person volunteered to have their face ripped off by that wacko-' Everything else was drowned out as Maria let an excited giggle escape. That caught the girl and stopped talking, starring at the silent, used to be, woman. 'Urm, yeah... You start this evening at six thirty pm today.' With that, the girl turned back to her magazine uncomfortably.

Maria's heart stuttered. She was to see her angel tonight? So early? Is she presentable? What will he think? Will he approve of her?

All the questions swirled in her head, blinding her from everything else.


	2. Chapter 2

**I've already done the disclaimer so... I thought that you'd get the gist. Not mine yadda yadda.**

**Now, I love Harley Quinn, but seeing as she's (Horribly) not in the Nolanverse**

**And also, there will be Batman with his self-righteous ways, be assured. But I don't think it's realistic for him to start dropping by the Asylum to beat the Joker up? Hardly his style.**

**And don't worry, Maria won't be all hero worshipping the entire time, trying to show she admires him.**

**And any tips for Jokers speech is welcome.**

**Chapter 2: Joker's mind.**

**Mine.**

Six thirty couldn't come quick enough.

Maria was buzzing with excitement. Seeing her Joker. Seeing her Joker. _Seeing her Joker_. How could that not hold her attention?

She sat with her last patient, barely able to contain herself. The said patient, she forgot his name, was schizophrenic, trauma from some criminal. He was shivering and trying to get words to form correctly.

6:45. So close.

Then, like music to her ears, the ring signalling end of session came and met her ears.

'A-a-annnd t-t-theeee-' the sentence was cut short by Maria's lunge for the door. Guards opened it to be hit by the mess that was Maria, at first thinking it was the patient. The patient and guards all watched as the woman ran off madly, her petite frame followed by her fluttering waistcoat.

Maria had the crazy smile that was rarely on her face at full capacity. No one bothered to stop her, no one dared. Fear was something that she saw in all their eyes every day. That was why she never bothered to talk to anyone. Why would she waste words on such pathetic insects?

But the Joker was more than worth it. Every word. Every breath.

Finally, she made it to the high security section, though it wasn't very impressive. All it meant was that there were more doors, more blatantly shown cameras and some bored, half witted pigs called guards. They just let her in, no questions asked. They didn't want to know.

There she was. In front of the door leading to the padded area. But it was who was in the padded room that was important. Vital. The reason.

Taking a big breath, she slowly entered the room, the grin just not able to leave, not that she tried. Why lie? He was a genius; it would only insult him to lie of what she felt.

There he was. Sitting with his straitjacket worn tightly, more tightly than it should be.

His matted green hair hung, covering his smudged eyes. The cracked white paint covering the rest of his face was even more patch worked than before. Lips cracked and the red paint was now faint on his face, revealing the beautiful scars that adorned his features.

'Why... uh... doc-tooor. You here to cure meee-huh?' Even his voice brought light in her heart.

'What is there to cure?' The first words spoken to another person in five years_. Go me_, there goes that record.

That made him do a double take. The shock and suspicion on the painted face sent a thrill through her spine.

Deciding to not wait for him to recover, it was taking too long anyway, she started to make her way forwards.

'Now, are you going tah hurt me sugar?' there was a British accent to her voice, huh, guess accents aren't something you don't get rid of over time.

Regaining some composure, he smirked.

'Well, depends... do I... uh... get ou-_ta_ of these loooow bud-get clothes?'

'Maybe. Only one way to find out, ey?' and with that, Maria started to release the buckles of the straitjacket. 'Now, be a good boy, aaaalright?' she giggled. For some reason, the joker, instead of a manic laugh, smiled, nonplussed.

'You must be a little on the craaaa-_zy_ side eh?' He said, feeling his now free limbs.

Instead of being offended, Maria nodded excitedly.

'Oh, crazy shumazy! It they had it their way, I would be in this room behind these so _colourful_ padded walls. They just don't like that I don't talk to them and that makes them a little freaked out. Ha!' She flapped her hands around with giant gestures, not even looking at the Joker anymore, totally at ease and unworried of the possible dangers of the man classified as mad.

'You don't... uh... taaaalk to oth-_eeerrrrs_?' he drawled, an accent that Maria couldn't pin point coming through at the corners. If she had looked at the clown at that moment, she would have seen a smile that could be called almost interest and _endearment_. What was going through the mind of the clown is as other-worldly as Narnia in wonderland... remixed with something like...

'Oh no! I wouldn't waste my breath with those maggots and cockroaches. So ignorant and so _booooring_!'

And, without Maria realising it, the Joker was hooked. His mind was racing. This woman, his doctor, was the one. For what, remained unanswered, but that thought was what made him study the girl with more interest. Her way of speaking, so alike to his own thoughts. He was giddy at the thought. What _fun_ they could have. What _chaos and truth_ they could enlighten the world with.

She was an angel. In this pitiful, patheic city (well... world really) he had found this _beauty__. _And like he was going to get rid of this! HA!

But, his eyes never strayed from the grinning, ranting woman. With a confusing word resounding in the forefront of his messy mind.

_Mine_.

And who was he to go against himself?

**A/N: Thank you anyone who has read and reviewed and what not! Any wishes for where this story could go will be duly noted. **

**And if this story isn't anyones taste... hey ho! I enjoyed writing it so yeah?**

**Freya x**


End file.
